


we were searching for ourselves in each other

by elliotfromseattle



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, and sit in a greenhouse, look. look. the garages told me that they have an armenian player. what else was i supposed to do, oh cw for a very brief alcohol mention at the end, they eat pomegranates in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliotfromseattle/pseuds/elliotfromseattle
Summary: Lori Boston and Paula Turnip share a snack.
Relationships: Lori Boston/Paula Turnip
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	we were searching for ourselves in each other

It was warm in the greenhouse. Outside, only a few rays of the sun peeked through the clouds, but the glass walls amplified those rays, creating a rare spot of temperate climate in the cool city of Seattle. Potted plants of all shapes, sizes, and colors filled the space--ivies and ferns and the largest ficus Lori had ever seen, all thriving in the sunlight. 

Lori heard her before she saw her, heard the lilting violin melodies waft around planters hanging on twine from the ceiling. She paused in the doorway, careful not to rustle the plastic grocery bag in her hand as the vibrant solo came to a close. 

"Sounding good!"

Paula jumped, bow nearly slipping out of her hand as she turned around from her spot on top of the wooden picnic table in the center of the room. 

"When did you get here?"

Her voice was airy, floating among the plants with the same sweetness her music held. 

"Just came in to check on my trees," Lori plopped the plastic bag on the table, next to Paula's open violin case, and walked to a corner of the room where two trees sat in cobalt pots. Paula gently rested her instrument back in the case and followed. 

"No suit today?"

"Nah, too hot in here for it." Lori adjusted her t-shirt, "It gets so sweaty. Oh, look! I was right!"

Paula's gaze traced from Lori's back up her arm as she reached for a plump, pink fruit. 

"You are growing pomegranates?" Paula asked, a hint of a smile in her voice. 

"Brought the tree here from home. The pot, too. Here, sit," She motioned back to the picnic table, "We'll share."

Paula walked back and moved her violin case to the edge of the table, sitting on the hard seat as Lori gently picked the fruit off the tree. 

"We have a story about these where I'm from."

"Hades, right?" Lori sat at the other side of the table, removing two plates from the bag and a small, intricate knife. She placed what looked like a shrink-wrapped white braid on the second plate, and began delicately carving the pomegranate on the first, pink juices staining her fingers as she went. 

"Yes. Legend has it that if you eat too many seeds, you'll be trapped in a place forever."

"Is that so?" Lori grinned, popping a pomegranate seed in her mouth. "Guess you're stuck with me then."

Paula smiled and gingerly picked up one of the seeds between her fingers, placing it between her lips. The taste melted in her mouth. She picked up another, looking down at the second plate. 

"You brought something else?"

Lori nodded, wiping her hands on her pants before taking the knife and carefully cuttting the shrink wrap off the braid. Looking closer, Paula could see little black seeds dotting it. 

"It's string cheese. From my home. Here, let me."

She took the braid in both hands and twisted it, undoing the braid and allowing the cheese to break apart into dozens of tangled strings. Paula tentatively picked one up and took a bite--mild, but savory, contrasting the sweetness of the pomegranate. She watched as Lori picked up a string roughly an inch thick and began peeling more and more strings off of it, playing with her food before eating it. 

"You were playing music for the plants?" She asked, placing a small string of cheese in her mouth. 

Paula nodded, eating another pomegranate seed. "It helps them grow… and I feel happier when I practice here."

"Can't say I blame you. You did a great job with the place, it's beautiful."

"Thank you. I did not do it alone though. I did not grow those fruit trees."

Lori flushed a little at that. "Oh, I barely did anything. Where I used to live, we had a couple of apricot and pomegranate trees in the yard. Just felt right to stick a few in pots and bring them with me."

Paula closed her eyes as she put a fourth seed in her mouth, a small voice in the back of her brain keeping track of how many, out of habit. She thought of the plants she'd left behind in Hades--she couldn't take anything with her when she left the team. No one ever did. Even when leaving Hades, they couldn't look back. 

"Paula?"

She opened her eyes. Lori was looking at her intently, pomegranate juice staining the corner of her lips. 

"Sorry. I was… lost in thought. I am glad you were able to bring something from your home with you. And thankful that you would share it with me."

"Well, thank you for building a space that we could share together.”

They sat in silence, enjoying the food. Lori looked in the corner at her two potted trees, the apricot showing the first signs of wilting as the pomegranate flourished. 

“It’s funny,” She started, “I’d never been far from home before. And here I am, in a completely new world. A kind of scary one, to be honest, but. It feels nice.”

“Mm." Paula bit down on another seed with a satisfying crunch. "It is like we have a place of our own, here.”

Lori continued looking at the tree, at the red flowers that would soon flip themselves inside out, like the way her stomach felt when she looked at the way Paula's green hair flowed past her shoulders. 

"Say, there's going to be loads of pomegranates on that tree next week. Would you share another with me? I'll bring arak."

"What is that?"

"Oh, you'll hate it. Stings like hell the first time you drink it."

Paula couldn't help but to laugh at that, eating her sixth seed. If this were a myth, her fate would be cemented, and she'd be trapped here for half of the year. Not that that mattered. She'd eat the entire fruit if it meant getting to stay in this greenhouse with Lori forever. 

"It is a date."

**Author's Note:**

> invented a new ship today lads
> 
> title is a quote by armenian poet sayat nova, aka the subject of the film the color of pomegranates
> 
> this was incredibly self indulgent and you are all welcome. go eat some armenian string cheese its delicious


End file.
